From Bank to Battlefield

The Year of Anzac

The Prince of Wales salutes as a procession of Australian
troops pass by on Anzac Day 1919. The building in the
background is Australia House, the Strand, London. The
Strand Branch of the Commonwealth Bank occupied part
of the ground floor of the building. PN-000280

The landing of the Australian and New Zealand soldiers
at Gallipoli on the morning of 25 April 1915 was their
first military action of World War I. It was a display
of strength, fortitude and courage in the face of great
adversity. For a nation that had been a federal commonwealth
for only 14 years this moment was a coming of age, cementing
in the minds of Australia and the world the indelible
image of the unfaltering Anzac spirit. The Gallipoli
campaign lasted eight months and although it failed
in its military objectives, it created a legacy which
helped to shape the identity of the nation.

‘Knights of Gallipoli’

Anzac Day was officially named in 1916 when the Queensland
Government started a movement to celebrate the landing
of the troops at Gallipoli. The movement spread to many
towns and cities across Australia who held services
in churches or town halls, raised funds for discharged
soldiers and organised marches for the returned soldiers
which often included wounded soldiers who were transported
in convoys of cars attended by nurses. Services were
also held by soldiers fighting in France and the Australian
camp in Egypt organised a sports day to mark the occasion.

In England, to counteract the bleak war news, over 2,000
Australian and New Zealand troops were taken by train
to London where they marched through large crowds to
Westminster Abbey for a commemoration service before
continuing on to Buckingham Palace and Trafalgar Square.
The newspapers dubbed them the ‘Knights of Gallipoli’.

Commemorations continue

Throughout the war Anzac Day continued to combine public
mourning and commemoration with a message of imperial
loyalty and national pride accompanied by exhortations
to do more and give more. Each year the services and
parades were usually followed by recruitment rallies
in which soldiers who returned to Australia spoke to
crowds of patriotism, duty, honour and self-sacrifice,
calling for more young men to enlist. A special effort
was also made to commemorate the day in schools with
speeches, recitations and the singing of hymns. 1917
introduced a one or two minute’s silence which
began to occur in some places, most often at 9 p.m.
in the evening.

By 1918 Anzac Day not only commemorated Gallipoli but
Palestine and the Western Front as well, recognising
that the Anzac spirit first demonstrated at Gallipoli
was with the soldiers in every battlefield they entered.
1918 was also the first time an organised pilgrimage
occurred to the graves of Anzacs buried in England and
Australia. The graves were weeded and tended and flowers
or wreaths were placed on them for Anzac Day.

The first Armistice Day in 1918 saw huge crowds turn
out in London to mark the occasion. The Commonwealth
Bank’s London manager, Mr Campion, spoke of the
heroism of Australian soldiers at Gallipoli, and in
all conflicts in which they took part, and lamented
that the “…greatness of the sacrifice we can only
understand dimly; only as time goes on shall we realise
what it meant”.

A triumphant farewell

The first Anzac Day after the armistice was commemorated
with both sorrow and pride. The traditions started during
the war were continued with services and marches held
throughout Australia. Sprays of rosemary were worn for
remembrance to show that the Australian people would
never forget the sacrifice of their men. In London Anzac
Day became a triumphant farewell for the Australian
and New Zealand troops. 5,000 troops representing all
arms of the Australian Imperial Force marched through
crowd-thronged streets from the Mall to the city, passing
Australia House, the home of the Commonwealth Bank in
London, where H.R.H. the Prince of Wales took the salute
accompanied by his brother Prince Albert. There was
also an aerial display over London conducted by officers
of the Australian Flying Corps and a reception for 1,500
people at Australia House in the evening. Such was the pride for Australia’s diggers,
that an extra verse was added to the National Anthem, God Save the King, albeit
unofficially, with the first letter of each
line spelling out the word ANZACS vertically.

Reverence and remembrance

The post-war years marked a change in the way in which
Anzac Day was commemorated. The often celebratory aspects
of early Anzac Days faded to be replaced with a quiet
reverence as people mourned for their dead and showed
their sympathy for the thousands still suffering the
effects of their service. There was a communal need
to remember the obstacles, both natural and human, that
were endured and overcome for victory to be achieved.
Places of business began to be closed in the morning
while the services were conducted and the services themselves
started to incorporate the war memorials being built
in every town and city across Australia.

By 1927, the first year in which every state observed
some sort of public holiday on Anzac Day, the rituals
of commemoration familiar today were beginning to be
established. Flags were flown at half-mast, large memorial
services were held, parades of returned soldiers marched
through the streets and wreaths were placed on Anzac
graves and memorials. One of the earliest official dawn
services was held at the newly built Cenotaph in Martin
Place, Sydney the following year, in 1928.

Within ten years these rituals were firmly established
as part of the Anzac Day tradition. The advent of World
War II transformed Anzac Day into a national day of
remembrance for Australians and New Zealanders who served
in any war or conflict.

Armistice Celebrations

London Branch

As might be expected, old London with its 2,000 years
of history, its wars, its rebellions, its fires and
its plagues, rose to the occasion when the sudden blast
of the “maroons” – so long the heralds of
doom for many poor creatures – announced the great news.

Instantly Londoners poured out into the streets in countless
thousands, and as if by magic wand had been waved, myriads
of flags and banners appeared, big and little, on buildings,
or carried by the excited people.

Our own Australian flag soon waved proudly on our Bank
in New Broad Street, alongside the old Union Jack of
the Empire. Hats waved, sirens screeched, bells rang,
scratch bands started up in all directions, and enormous
crowds of laughing, cheering people filled the streets
throughout the length and breadth of the vast area called
London.

It was hard to get on with the necessary office work,
and everyone was eager to be home and rejoice with their
people, so the Manager brought pleasure to the entire
staff when he announced that work for the day would
cease at 4pm. Still greater was the pleasure when he
asked the staff to gather in the banking chamber at
that hour to join in singing the National Anthem.

Failure of Might

We gathered joyfully, amid a merry hum of suppressed
excitement, and then Mr Campion spoke a few quiet words
amidst a solemn stillness. Quietly he reminded us of
the momentous event, and what it meant to everyone in
the Empire, and to the entire civilised world. He spoke
of the cruel foe who had sought by Might alone to destroy
our civilisation, but who had been brought to his knees
by the splendid determination of our own people assisted
by our faithful allies.

Though touching lightly upon the events in Gallipoli,
and the vastness of the struggle of this world was,
and of its horrors, compared to the puny classical wars
of ancient Troy – fought in the identical lands – he
brought home acutely to the many “Aussies”
amongst us – in uniform or in mufti – thoughts of our
sacred dead, who had made an imperishable name on those
famous headlands in the Aegean Seas. And so, although
we smiled and sand the National Anthem with all our
hearts, behind the joy was a thought for our brave dead
in France and Gallipoli, in the Balkans, or on the watery
deep, who had died “for the ashes of their fathers
and the temples of their Gods.”

Mr C.A.B Campion's Speech

Ladies and Gentlemen – I am sure you will agree with
me that it is only right and fitting we should assemble
for a few minutes today to mark this great occasion
of Peace being restored once more. The day, I suppose,
is the most momentous, humanely speaking, in the history
of the world. Never has there been any day so epoch-making
as this.

All other great events of history – the French Revolution,
the Fall of the Bastille, the Napoleonic Wars, the Seven
Years' War, the Thirty Years' War, the days
of the Greeks and Trojans – all shrink into comparative
insignificance beside the events of the last four years.

We are all too close to what has happened, and what
is happening to realise the full meaning of the wonderful
times we have passed through. The most striking of all
our thoughts – the one standing out most prominently
of all – is the heroic bravery shown by all our boys,
none greater in all the ages.

The exploits of the Greeks and Trojans have been sung
by Homer, and their bravery has since our earliest years
filled us with the admiration and wonder. But the achievements
of Ulysses and Agamemnon, of Paris and Achilles, with
their bows and arrows and spears and bucklers, seem
little to the brave deeds of our soldiers, advancing
against and mown down by hails of shells and shrapnel.

Immortal France

And what, too, has ever equalled the heroism of our
Australian boys at Gallipoli, which, as you know, is
only a short distance across the straits from ancient
Troy! We cannot appreciate even now the heights of the
heroism to which our boys have risen, not only there,
but in France, facing the Germans, who had been preparing
for the war for the past forty years.

Our boys could only offer against the German cannon
and machine guns, mortars and poisonous gases, their
flesh and blood, but their unconquerable spirit was
irresistible, and they checked the onset of the Huns,
notably at Ypres and Amiens, and finally overcame them.

Our lads – so many of whom, may I say, it was our privilege
and pleasure to serve from day to day in the Bank here,
as well as to comfort and tend their dependents – from
the mother of the “man with the donkey”
to many others, these lads went over the top to meet
certain death with smiling faces, cheerfully giving
their lives for their country and their people.

The greatness of the sacrifice we can only understand
dimly, only as time goes on shall we realise what it
meant, the hundreds of thousands of lives that have
been laid down, and the millions that have been maimed
or scarred in this war. Today we rejoice that eternal
right has at last prevailed – that right which always
does prevail, but it comes specially home to us now,
that although might and wrong may flourish, it is only
for a season, and righteousness and justice come at
last and prevail eternally.

The Joy of Peace

We rejoice that victory is given to us after all the
patient suffering and endurance of these years, and
I want you, before we leave, to join with me today in
an expression of the joy – the chastened, abiding joy
– and thankfulness we feel in our hearts that Peace
has come at last, and a righteous Peace. And in these
days when thrones are tottering, out thoughts turn also
to our King, who has filled his high and anxious position
with wisdom and prudence, and I want you to join with
me now in singing the first verse of our National Anthem.

Anzac Day in London

This year 5000 mixed troops representing all arms of
the A.I.F., marched from the Mall to the city, passing
Australia House en route. The day before was wet and
cold, but as the procession started the sun shone out
in welcome, and cheered everyone the whole morning.

A large contingent of the city staff viewed the show
from Strand Office windows at Australia House, and had
an excellent view of it.

H.R.H the Prince of Wales, standing on a dais on the
pavement in front of the Bank windows, took the salute,
and was accompanied by his brother, Prince Albert. Both
the Princes charmed the huge crowd of sightseers by
their manly and unassuming bearing, and at the close
of the ceremony several Australian soldiers, not in
the procession, calmly stood a few yards in front of
the Prince of Wales “snapping” his photo.
The crowd pressed closely in, enthusiastically cheering
the young prince, and it was with difficulty the men
in khaki were prevented from “chairing”
him.

The High Commissioner, the Hon. W.M. Hughes, Sir Joseph
Cook, and Senator Peace, stood on the dais, at the side
of Sir Douglas Haig and General Birdwood. The Bank was
represented by Mr Campion, the London manager, who was
presented to the Prince on the dais.

The march past was an entire success, the mounted men
on their superb black charges, the business-like artillerymen,
and the long lines of khaki infantry and gleaming bayonets,
calling forth enthusiastic cheers from the onlookers,
and a vast sea of faces was visible far up and down
the Strand.

There were other attractions, too, for Australian officers
of the Flying Corps had their share in the ceremony.
There were “angels hovering round” (Handley-Pages,
with aluminium wings and Rolls-Royce engines), and one
of them known as the Red Devil made the spectators gasp
as they watched his daring rushes and gyrations just
over the chimney tops. About a dozen aeroplanes were
up, and the display was described as the finest ever
seen in London.

But those who had no vision beyond that splendid body
of soldiers missed a good deal. Those 5,000 men representative
of nearly half a million of healthy young fellows, who
had volunteered to help in the great fight for freedom.
They stood for the heroes of Gallipoli, Villers-Bretonneux,
and of Mont St Quentin, the latter a great natural fortress
defended by acres of wire and thousands of German bayonets,
but which fell to a handful of Australian bombers: the
taking of the first-named by our men constituting the
turning point of the war.

Then men also represented a vigorous people, who, 11,000
miles away, were loyal to our King and Empire, and who
had made great sacrifices to preserve the freedom won
for the Empire by their kinsfolk in this older land
in the days gone by.

Seen this way, and remembering that never before in
London had 5,000 armed Australians marched past the
heir-apparent to the throne of the greatest Empire the
world has ever seen, it was an impressive and memorable
occasion.

While we Australians feel proud of it all, we should
not forget that we are not “the only pebbles on
the beach.” This fascinating old London many times
saw the superb cohorts of Rome march through her streets,
and no doubt along this very Strand; at any rate, through
ancient Watling Street, but a short distance away.

Doubtless that great Englishman, King Alfred, rallied
his men near by in his fights against the Danes.

The Knights Templar of the twelfth and later centuries
must have often marched past where he stood, for their
General Headquarters were but a stone's throw
away, just inside Temple Bar, where their interesting
church still stands. Like our boys, they travelled far
to fight for what they believed was a righteous cause,
and many of the brave fellows after a good fight left
their homes in a far distant land.

Then the warriors of that great Queen, Elizabeth, often
trod these very streets, and soldiers of our late beloved
Queen Victoria marched down the Strand to the city on
their return from the Crimea, or other distant parts
of the world, where they had gone - like our lads -
at the call of duty.

But while one rejoiced at the splendid showing made
by the bronzed fighters, one could not keep back thoughts
of the Silent Company who were sleeping on Gallipoli,
in France, or Egypt.

For every living man on the present march, twelve had
given their lives (we lost 60,000 killed during the
war).

In the evening the High Commissioner and Mrs Fisher
gave a reception at Australia House, which 1,500 people
attended, including many of the senior staffs of the
city office and Strand branch.

Like the daylight ceremony, the evening function was
a brilliant success, the magnificent rooms of the building
and the marble pillars and staircases showing to perfection.

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